


Moon Boy

by Prodigal LoZ (Prodigal_Sunlight), Prodigal_Sunlight



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Mutual Pining, Other, Slow Burn, Werewolves, a story about an anxious wolf boy who just wants to cook and a stressed™ science princess, can't wait for urbosa, pretty pumped about this story!, she's my fav
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-05 14:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12191568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prodigal_Sunlight/pseuds/Prodigal%20LoZ, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prodigal_Sunlight/pseuds/Prodigal_Sunlight
Summary: For many years, Hyrule has been ravaged by Ganon and his army of vicious werewolves. Zelda is barely keeping her kingdom together amidst the chaos. When the hero who can wield the Master Sword finally appears, she thinks she may have finally found the answer to all her problems. There's only one problem with that. Link is a werewolf; and she's starting to fall in love with him."Moon Boy" is an AU based of off Breath of the Wild, exploring a Hyrule forced to fight a losing war against Ganon's armies. There are two main characters. First is Zelda, the scholarly and overstressed princess of Hyrule. She's trying desperately to hold her people together, even as the werewolves destroy them all. Second is Link, an anxious, culinary, and nature–savvy werewolf boy just doing his best to survive in a world where everyone hates him. When the Master Sword recognizes him as the hero, suddenly everyone loves him. Unsure what to do, he desperately tries to hide his werewolf identity and figure out whether this is a war he dares to fight. When the two meet in the forest, they're relationship is strange, awkward. But when a mutual love begins to blossom, can their relationship survive a war?





	1. Prologue

“Goddess Hylia, please, listen and hear me,” Zelda said, kneeling at the base of the stone statue. No, that wasn’t right. How did her mother do this? “Oh Goddess Hylia, please hear your people.” She bit her lip, frowning impatiently. Was that not right either? There was no response, no surge of holy power. She glanced back at Impa, hoping for some kind of hint. Impa quietly motioned her on, nodding quietly.

Zelda turned back to the statue, clasping her hands together. “My people are dying,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Your people are dying. Ganon has lead thousands of his wolves against us. For months, we’ve been suffering. Our armies are shattered. Our people are dying.

“Please, lead me to the hero. Lead me to find the one who is wielding the triforce of courage. He is our last hope. Hylia, send him to end our suffering.” She turned her eyes up to the carved statue’s face, holding her breath.

There was no heavenly chorus, or ethereal glows of light. The statue of the goddess stared back with blank, smiling stone eyes.

“Please!” Zelda pushed to her feet, her jaw clenched. “Hylia, please hear me, I’ve prayed to you every day for months! They’re dying! Give me an answer, give me a sign! Give me strength, please!” Her shoulder slumped, and she wrapped her arms around herself, taking a shaky deep breath in.

She didn’t cry; she was all together too tired for anymore heartbreak. She lifted her head, searching the cut stone face for any sign of having heard her.

She turned back, sitting at the edge of the dais, drawing her knees close to her chest. “I can’t do it. I just can’t get her to hear me. How are we going to fight off Ganon’s wolves when I can’t so much as call on the goddess for guidance?” she asked.

“You must rest, Princess,” Impa said, folding her hands patiently. She sat at her side, bending over to pick up a tiny silent princess blossom, turning it over in her wrinkled hands. “You will find the strength you need, all in time. You need to believe you have the same power as your mother did.”

Zelda gently took the flower, twisting the stem between her fingers, tracing the fragile petals. “We’re in a failing war. Every day, more and more innocent people die. Can I really afford patience now?” she asked softly.

Impa sighed softly, glancing back to the statue. “I believe we can. The leaders of the Zora and the Goron are coming to offer their aid. And we have other hopes to turn to as well.”

Zelda straightened, a small smile escaping onto her face. “Wolf hunters? Does that mean—”

“Yes, Urbosa is coming back,” Impa said, chuckling at the flash of light in Zelda’s eyes. “I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you too. A Rito warrior by the name of Revali will be coming as well. They’ll buy us all the time we need for you to unlock your connection to the goddess.”

The smile on Zelda’s face began to fade, and she turned away hesitantly. “I’m just. . .so tired. What if I can’t? What if I just can’t connect to her? What if there’s nothing I can do?”

Impa grimaced, pushing to her feet with a groan. She rested her hand on her back, taking a deep breath. “Oh, everything aches. Listen, Princess Zelda, I promise you will find your strength in time. But not today. Come now, let’s return to Castle Town.”

Zelda stood, sparing another glance back at the statue of the goddess. Her chest ached, and she took a hesitant step forward. “Maybe I should try praying again. Just once more.”

“You’re running yourself ragged,” Impa said, shaking her head in disappointment. “You can’t protect the survivors if you’re too exhausted to stand.” She gently guided Zelda away from the dais. “Come now. It’s late."

Zelda sighed, finally giving in. “All right. Can we visit the Master Sword before we return? It at least brings me comfort to know that it is there.”

They walked together in silence down the wooded path of the castle forest, both trying to ignore the air of unease that weighed heavy on all of Hyrule. There was no need to fear any attacks here. Ganon’s armies of werewolves had driven bokoblins and other monsters to near extinction. It would have been a blessing, really, if the wolves hadn’t been wiping out every single animal that walked the forests, monster or otherwise.

They followed the rough stone path from the small grove where the shrine was built. The sky through the trees was smokey, and dim with wispy clouds. The wind hissed through the trees, birds calling anxiously to each other for comfort.

CRRACKK!

Zelda jumped back. Her eyes darted around the clearing, and she stepped closer to Impa cautiously. “Did you—what was that?” she asked cautiously.

“I don’t know,” Impa said quietly, narrowing her eyes. “Ganon’s never sent anyone this far. Still, we should go back to town immediately. It’s too dangerous to be out here if there could be werewolves.”

“Wait.” The blood drained from Zelda’s face. She wavered on her feet, shaking. “The Master Sword.” The words were dry, cracked. “What if he’s trying to take the Master Sword?”

Impa shook her head. “Zelda, no, you know he can’t—”

It didn’t matter. Fear was stronger than reason. Zelda took off running. She leapt from the path, hurdling through the trees, hunting down the sound.

Ahead of her, through the foliage, she heard running, branches and stones upturned by a chase. She skidded to a stop, listening anxiously, trying to figure out where the stranger had gone.

As she stood there, the crooked trees leaning in around her became clearer, more familiar. She was standing less than a hundred yards from the dais where the Master Sword stood, untouched.

If this was one of Ganon’s wolves, that’s where they would be heading. Heart pounding, she turned sharply. She surged through the forest. It didn’t matter if she had holy power or not. Nothing could ever happen to the Master Sword. It was their last hope. It was their only hope.

Smacking a branch away, she shoved through the the tangled trees. She panted for breath, her cheeks flushing red. She clenched her fists, locking her jaw, eyes narrowed. Anxiety surged through every inch of her, fear of what would happen if the sword was lost. She’d failed her people enough already.

And then she saw him.

He was a tall, lanky boy, awkward and skinny. His face was stained with mud, and leaves clung to his scruffy golden hair. He wore a long, rough tunic, and a strange green hat the hung low on his head.

He stared at the Master Sword, with an absent sort of expression, almost as if trying to remember some old memory, just out of reach. He stepped closer, raising one hand cautiously. His fingers slid around the hilt of the blade, fitting perfectly into the leather grip.

The blade almost seemed to vibrate at his touch. The flowering wild vines that had grown up around it slowly blossomed, and a soft, golden glow spiraled across the steel. The boy let go suddenly, stepping back in surprise. He moved away slowly, bumping right into Zelda.

Before he’d even turned around, she grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him close. She looked him over carefully, trying to find any feature she could find familiar, but it was becoming incredibly clear he wasn’t from Castle Town.

“Who are you?” She asked softly, leaning closing, staring deep into his startled blue eyes.

“Princess Zelda! Princess Zelda!” Impa came puffing around the corner, heaving for air, rubbing her leg with a grimace. Her eyes immediately shifted to the boy, and she stopped, watching him cautiously. “Your highness, who is this?”

The boy glanced at the trees, as if considering making a break for it, but after a moment’s consideration, he answered them quietly. “Link.”

Zelda nodded, her brain spinning and thundering in her head. “Link. I have so, so many questions. Where are you from?” she asked.

He glanced to the forest again, as tense and wound up as a cornered fox. He didn’t answer the question, silently looking from Zelda to Impa and back again.

Zelda softened her grip, managing a disbelieving smile. “We’re not going to attack you. I promise. Please, Link, come with me and Impa back to Castle Town. I need to speak with you.”

The boy, Link, hesitated for a long time, staring her down warily, as if unsure she wasn’t going to grow fangs and chase him down. Finally, he took a deep breath, offering a quick, anxious nod.

“Princess Zelda,” Impa said, turning anxiously to Zelda, giving Link a quick distrusting glance. “Who is this boy? Are you certain we should take him back to the town?”

Zelda bit back an awestricken smile. “Impa,” she said, trying to stay calm. “He’s the hero, Impa. He can wield the Master Sword.”


	2. Chapter One

No one really paid attention to the odd procession that returned from the Goddess’s shrine. First was the princess, a common sight. She always was between the town and the shrine, trying desperately to govern what was left of her people and pray to the Goddess all at once.

Just behind her was a lanky boy with a strange floppy hat. No one paid him much mind either; just another muddy refugee. A couple people did find it weird how much he stared, watching everyone who passed as if they were some strange wild animal wandering freely through the streets.

At the end of the entourage was the Sheikah woman named Impa, a short woman with fading hair and a lined, tired face. It was not too unusual to see her around either, as she was often watching over the princess and doing what she could to ease the burdens of the people.

Once all of them were inside, Zelda shut the door to her study, stealing another glance over her shoulder at the boy, as if he might disappear in a puff of smoke.

Link stood at one of the windows, watching people mill past, eyes wide as the people shambled past, watching their every movement curiously.

“What in the world are you looking at?” Impa asked him, grunting as she sat down in a wooden chair, rubbing her aching knee.

Link turned around quickly, as if he’d almost forgotten they were there. He glanced out again, as if he couldn’t look away. “There are so many,” he said, his voice soft and awestruck.  
Zelda picked up her journal, glancing at him curiously. “Were there not very many people in the village you come from?” she asked him.

He paled slightly, glancing away as he took a seat. He thought about the question for a moment, as if not sure how to answer, then nodded. She didn’t blame him. Plenty of the refugees in Castle Town avoided talking about their old homes, about the horrors they’d lost their family and friends to.

“I have a few questions I need to ask of you,” she said, grabbing a quill from her desk. “If you can answer them, it would be a great help to everyone. First, where are you from, and what training have you been afforded?”

Link hesitated, as if trying to pick apart the question. “In the forest,” he answered. Releasing that was fairly vague, he decided to clarify. “To the west.”

Zelda hesitated, glancing on the map hanging on the wall. There weren’t very many forest settlements to the west of Castle Town. Especially not now that that werewolves were settling in the area. “Did you live in Mabe Village? There are lot of other people from the area who came here.” He quickly shook his head, and she checked again. “Maybe one of the smaller settlements in Trillby Plain?”

He paused for a long time, considering it carefully before nodding. Zelda frowned, glancing down at the blank journal page. He didn’t seem particularly certain about that.

“Do you know how to fight?” she asked him again, sitting down behind her desk.

He nodded cautiously. “A little,” he admitted, glancing back outside again.

Zelda sighed. Clearly he wasn’t much for talking. “Link,” she said softly. “Can you please come to me?”

He walked over to her, still hanging back, hesitant. She gently took his right hand, turning it over, tracing the lines. There were small scars across his palms and rough, faded knuckles. She pressed her thumb into his palm, closing her eyes, channeling what little magic she knew.

A moment passed, but from under her touch, a soft golden glow pulsed. It traced out across Link’s skin, and he flinched, staring anxiously. Soft lines traced his hands, etching into the shape of a small, golden triangle, detailed with soft lines.

“I knew it,” Zelda said softly, brushing his hand. She looked up, meeting his eyes, smiling. “You’re wielding the triforce of courage. You really are the hero.”

His eyes flashed, and he pulled back suddenly, glancing down at his hand. He stared, watching the golden glow fade from his skin.

“Link,” Zelda said, searching his expression. “I have something I need to ask you.” She paused, for a moment, glancing through the window. “You’ve seen the people who have come to Castle Town, looking for somewhere safe to hide, somewhere they can live. But it’s not safe any more. Ganon’s armies are moving in closer. You are so much stronger than you even realize. Please, Link,” she said, pushing herself to stand, meeting him eye–to–eye. “Help us defeat Ganon.”

“No.”

Link stepped back, tugging the seam of his hat anxiously, trying not to meet her gaze. “I. . .I’ve heard a lot about Ganon before,” he said quietly. “He’s strong. Stronger than you think. I can’t stop him. I’m not strong enough.”

Zelda slumped, staring at him desperately. “Please. Link, you’re the only one who can wield the Master Sword. We can’t do this without you.”

Link turned away, walking back to the window, not turning to look at them. He cut a dim silhouette against the window, shaping the faded light that fell across the study. His eyes traced the people below, again, watching the mill about hopelessly.

“They don’t have anyone to protect them?” he asked softly.

Zelda came up behind him, watching them pass by. She closes her eyes, letting out a long slow breath. “Without the Master Sword, all we can do is live on borrowed time. Everyone is losing faith. There’s no hope left, Link.”

“Nobody else can do it?” he asked, crossing his arms against his chest, as if trying to hold himself together.

“You’re the only one with the triforce of courage Link,” Zelda insisted, glancing to Impa, hoping for advice. “There really is no one else.”

Link’s shoulders slumped, looking exhausted. “I could try,” he said, his voice so low she barely heard him. “I could try.”

Emotions surged through her heart, tears welling up. She buried her face in his sleeve, grabbing him in a tight hug, overwhelmed. “Thank you, thank you,” she muttered, shaking slightly. “Thank you, thank you so much, thank you.”

“I don’t know a lot about swords,” Link warned. He waited a moment before pulling away hesitantly, startled by her gentle touch, his face flushed.

Zelda took a shaky breath, turning away, embarrassed by her sudden reaction. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” she said, shaking her head as though to clear it. “I just—thank you, Link. Thank you.”

Impa stood up slowly, smiling with relief, glad to see Zelda so happy for the first time in so long. “Zelda, why don’t you show him the barracks, catch him up on the battle so far?” she asked. She paused, stretching with a grimace, rubbing her side. “I’ll attend to the preparations for Mipha and Daruk’s arrivals. I’m sure you’ll have plenty to deal with on your own.”

“That’s right,” Zelda said, quickly shuffling the ledgers and notebooks strewn across her desk. “Thank you very much Impa, please update me once everything is in place.”

With a tired smile and a patient nod, Impa slipped out through the door, calling a friendly greeting to passing refugees before hobbling off into the crowd.

“Alright. Where should we start? Well, there are so many questions I want to ask, things I want to know—no, no, we need to focus on priorities. I’m sure you have a million more questions than I do,” Zelda said. She grabbed a quill from her desk, tucking it behind her ear. She chewed her lip absently as she looked over the books lining her walls, wondering which might help most. After some thought, she decided to travel light, tucking her newest journal into her bag.

“Follow me. I’ll show you the barracks. I’m sure a few of our men would be willing to teach you how best to wield a sword,” Zelda told him eagerly, pushing open the door, motioning for him to follow. “It’s just a short walk across the town. Do you have any questions?”

Link hesitated in the doorway, watching the busy crowd anxiously. He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and stepped out, trying not to stare. “I don’t. . .really understand what’s going on.”

Zelda frowned, folding her arms. That was a bit trickier of a question to answer. “Well, you know the stories, don’t you? The triforce, and the hero who could wield the Master Sword?” He nodded patiently. She bit her lip, tilting her head to the side. “It seems you are the hero. Incredible, yes, but I don’t see what’s so hard to understand about it.”

He leaned further back into the shadows of the building, glancing away anxiously. He spoke softly, turning slightly away. “But why?”

Zelda took a deep breath, offering her hand to him. When he took it, cautiously, she pulled him out of the door, and into the light of day. “I don’t see any reason not,” she said decisively. “I may not know much about you, but you wouldn’t be here if the Goddess Hylia didn’t think you were the right choice. Come on, now,” she said, pulling him on.

“Do you see the building over there, with the scarecrows outside?” she asked, looking back just in time to catch his brisk nod. “That’s the barracks. I’ve opened the castle’s supply to everyone, but it is limited, so they’ve been training against those scarecrows. You’ll likely train there most of your time,” she explained. She strode up to barracks' grounds, sitting down on the low stone wall that wandered past the building. Zelda glanced up at Link, smiling just a little. “You can sit down, you know.”

He hesitated before sitting, crossing his legs under him as he watched a couple young men spar. “The lady said you would explain the war?” he asked, leaning forward, his expression thoughtful.

“Who?” Zelda paused. “Oh, her name’s Impa. She’s the royal adviser. She’s been helping me keep everything from falling apart here.”

“Royal?” Link asked, frowning, his brow knit together.

Zelda flushed, glancing away. Of course, in all of the excitement, she’d never properly introduced herself. “I am Princess Zelda, heir of Hyrule,” she said, watching his expression, worrying he might panic.

“Oh,” Link said, looking back to the sparring soldiers. “Okay then.”

He wasn’t embarrassed, or worried, or even very surprised. He seemed to take the sudden information in stride, as if he chatted with royalty every day. A bit startled herself, Zelda scrambled to find her train of thought.

“What were we talking about? Impa? No, wait, the war,” she said, biting down on her lip, forcing herself to take a deep breath. Why was he so quiet? It was a bit annoying, the fact that he was so stone faced, so silent. Why did he do that? “Right.

“There have been werewolf attacks for longer than I have lived, but it was seven years ago that Ganon led his forces against us in ernest. After my father was killed. . my mother was badly hurt.” She paused, taking a deep breath in. Now wasn’t the time for mourning. She had to keep steady.

“She fell into a deep coma. For three years, I’ve done the best I can to protect all of the refugees who’ve come here, but most of our soldiers are volunteers. I’ve been praying to the Goddess for guidance. My best hope was to find the hero of legend.” She paused, checking his expression for any sort of reaction. “That’s you.”

Link brushed a stray leaf from his hair, giving her a brief, doubting glance. “Okay,” he said quietly, tugging down on the brim of his hat. “What do I do?”

Zelda reeled back with the force of the simple question. “Well, obviously, you. . . you, um, well. . .” What could he do? Hero or not, one person could not defeat an entire army of werewolves. “You kill Ganon, obviously,” she decided, speaking slowly as if that might make her sound more convinced.

“He’s unkillable,” Link said, frowning. “He’s as large as a bear. And he knows magic.” He paused, tracing his skin absently. Zelda glanced down, noticing for the first time a thick webbing of scars all across his arms, some dark and fresh, some older and faded.

“Link,” she said hesitantly, her heart pounding in her chest. His eyes turned away, as if afraid of the question he knew she would ask. She could see how he tensed, how he shrank away, but she needed to know. “Have you seen Ganon before?”

It did not surprise her when he nodded.

“Few people see him and survive,” Zelda told him, her voice falling soft. “You and I may be the only ones. He. . . he was the one who took my parents from me. I’m sure he did no less horrors to you.”

Link paused, glancing back at her. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling in rhythm. “I’ve had a lot of experience with werewolves,” he admitted quietly. “Most of it bad.”

Zelda watched his expression, cautious. After a moment, she rested a hand on his shoulder, hoping the small gesture might lend him any amount of comfort. “You aren’t alone anymore Link. You don’t have to be afraid any more."

“I’m afraid of not being alone.”

Zelda straightened, tilting her head to the side. “What do you mean by that?” she asked him, biting her lip, watching him seriously.

Link turned away, stepping down from the wall. He brushed the dust from his tunic silently. He did not turn to face her. “Never mind. Just. . .show me inside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor dysfunctional kiddos


	3. Chapter Two

The sound of metal on metal rang through the barracks, drawing the occasional glance from passing townsfolk. Few paid it much mind, used to the clamor of the always training volunteers.

Zelda glanced up from her notebook, halfway through her sketch of a dried armoranth flower. She bit her lip, holding in a sigh as Link got back to his feet, running over to grab the sword he’d had knocked from his hand.

Eight days wasn’t much time, and she hadn’t been able to find any soldiers with enough time to be a permanent mentor, but still, Zelda couldn’t help feeling disappointed in Link’s sword skills. He was a natural, sure, and a fast learner. But it was anyone’s guess when Ganon’s wolves might attack next. She needed an expert swordsman wielding the Master Sword, but it seemed she was stuck with some strange boy from the woods.

She’d tried to talk more with him. They both carried part of the triforce, so it made sense that they should try and build a friendly bond, or at least a professional one. But she wasn’t exactly the most socially adept, and he hardly spoke. Most of the time she came to see him, he was either training himself to the bone, fast asleep, or off wandering around who–knows–where. All she really knew about him was that he was hard working, quiet, and blonde.

Honestly, she wasn’t even certain he was a natural blonde.

Zelda turned back to her half finished entry, turning the armoranth over in her hands, wondering what she was supposed to do with this strange boy.

“Your highness?”

She looked over her shoulder at a lanky, freckled girl with dark frizzy hair. The girl bounced on the tips of her toes, anxiously gripping at the strap of her shoulder bag. “May I speak to you?”

“Just Zelda is fine,” she said, waving off the formalities. The girl must be one of the newer refugees. In a place of war, there was no time for concerns of who was nobility and who was not.

She folded the dried armoranth into the pages of her journal, tucking it away in her bag. “What do you need?” she asked, trying for her best regal and approachable manner.

“My name is Aphea, ma’am,” the girl said, straightening up to try and look more respectful. “I was sent with a message from Lady Impa. She would like you and the hero to report to the south gate as soon as you possibly can.”

Zelda paused, wiping a few stray blades of grass off her skirt. “Link at least needs to finish out the hour,” she said, glancing back down at him as he sparred. “It’s not often he can get the time in to train with any of the trained knights, so it’s really important—”

“She said this is more important than his training, ma’am,” Aphea explained, glancing down at Link with a small glimmer of awe in her eyes, stricken by the sight of the hero. Focusing, she started bouncing on her toes again. “She said you need to come immediately.”

Sighing, Zelda stood, grabbing her bag, tucking her quill pen behind her ear. “I don’t see what could be so important.”

Aphea fidgeted anxiously, offering a small smile. “Lady Impa said the Zora princess and the Goron chief both just arrived at the gate. She said they’ll want to speak with both of you.”

“Princess Mipha? And Chief Daruk?” Zelda snapped her head to the side. She started sprinting down the hill, hollering. “Link! Link!” she yelled, nearly tripping over herself. “Training’s over, you have to come with me immediately!”

She skidded to a stop just as the two stopped sparring, grabbing Link by the wrist. She turned to the thick knight, panting, her face flushed. “Thank you for training with Link, Sir Bassak, please do again soon.” Without waiting for a response, she took off again, dragging a startled Link behind her. “Come on! We have to get there right away!”

They sprinted across the entire town. Even when Link’s boot slipped off his foot and fell into a mud puddle, Zelda didn’t let them stop. Even when a low hanging branch tangled her braid into a wild knot, they didn’t get to stop.

All things said, they made it to the south gate looking incredibly haggard, but in record time.

“Princess Zelda!” Impa said, shaking her head. “Just because I told the messenger girl to say ‘right away’ didn’t mean you had to climb through a bush to get here. Come now, you’re a mess.”

Zelda pulled away, instead turning wide–eyed to the two ambassadors seated in the gate house, chatting quietly just through the window. “No, no, it’s fine,” she insisted, pushing through the door.

“My apologies for making you wait,” Zelda said breathlessly, dropping into an empty seat across the table. “Your support means so very much to all of the Hylians, so please don’t take offense by my slowness to arrive.”

The beautiful Zora she could only take to be Mipha offered a sympathetic smile. “Please, Princess, do not worry yourself,” she said, in a soft, kind tone.

“Just Zelda is fine,” she said. “It makes me glad to finally meet you both, though I wish the circumstances were lighter.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it!” Daruk said brightly. “Just happy that we can lend our allies a hand. We have plenty of supplies, since it’s harder for those nasty wolves to get up to the crater, so the Goron people have plenty to share.”

Zelda let out a breath of relief. “Thank you both. These past few days it truly does seem as though the Goddess Hylia is swinging the war in our favor at last. It means so much to me that both of your peoples have come to offer their aid.”

“Of course,” Mipha said, offering a snatch of a gentle smile. “Tell me, how have things been since the last message you sent my father? Is all well?”

“It really is,” Zelda said, leaning in closer with an eager smile. “We have finally found the hero of legend.”

Daruk stood up suddenly, accidentally smashing the poor wooden stool that had been so desperately trying to bear his weight. “That’s incredible!” he yelled, offering a wide, toothy grin. “Come on, bring the hero in! Let’s meet the kid!”

Hesitantly, Link leaned in from the door, taking a few tentative steps into the room. He eyed the two strangers cautiously. He took a deep breath, offering a stiff nod of greeting. “I’m Link.”

Mipha leaned forward, her amber eyes widening curiously. Her gaze wandered him, watching him carefully, looking him over with serious contemplation. “That’s. . .a very nice hat,” she said softly, her voice thoughtful.

Link reached up, quickly gripping the hem of his hat, taking a small step back. “Thanks,” he said, his voice low, almost anxious.

She pushed to her feet, stepping around the table. Her eyes slid down to the scarred and stretched skin tangled across his arms. “Where did you get those?”

“Fighting,” he responded stiffly.

“Link,” she asked softly, her eyes shadowed, cautious as she takes a few steps back herself. “Can I ask you a question?”

She paused, but he gave no response, no shake of the head or agreement. After enough time, she seemed to decide to go ahead. “Link,” she said again. “What do you know about werewolves?”

Link stared at her, his jaw tight. He was shaking, barely, his eyes flickering across the room, as if looking for somewhere to run. He took an unsteady deep breath, wrapping his arms around himself, shutting his eyes. “I’m not going to talk about this.”

An uneasy silence settled through the room. The stone walls creaked, settling down in their age old foundations, waiting for someone, anyone to find the words to say.

Daruk paused, setting a massive hand gently on Link’s soldier. “Listen, kid. It’s okay. We’ve all lost someone we care a lot about. The werewolves have hurt everyone. If you don't wanna, you don’t have to talk about—”

Link suddenly ducked away, clenching his hands, looking away from everyone. Taking a shaky deep breath, he turned threw himself through the door. He ran, kicking up dirt and stone until he was out of sight.

Zelda hurried to the door, biting her lip. “I’m, um, so sorry,” she said quickly, turning back to the ambassadors. “He’s not very good, socially, and he doesn’t like talking about himself much. He didn’t mean anything by it, I. . .” she turned, glancing back out after him.

“It’s my fault,” Mipha said gently, sitting back down. “I was just. . .on edge. I didn’t mean to cause so many problems.”

Daruk nodded, folding his arms. “Don’t worry about it Princess Zelda. Do you want to go talk the boy down?” Zelda paused, nodding. He smiled, leaning against the wall. “Go ahead. We’ll discuss our thoughts with Lady Impa until you return.”

Zelda nodded, taking a few steps back. “Thank you,” she said, offering a quick polite curtsey. “Thank you. Thank you both,” she added. Taking a deep breath, she turned and ran, chasing down the muddy stone road after Link.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heheheh, Mipha knows what's up >:D


	4. Chapter Three

In Castle Town, there were rations on just about everything you could grow. Sugar was a luxury, and fresh fruit was little more than a happy memory. Even simpler things like wheat and rice were spread thin.

This, however, was not an issue for Link.

Sugar wasn’t an option, but honey was a near enough match, and dried fruit was nearly as good once it was baked in. Having enough flour took a bit of stretching too, but the real issue was the eggs. It had taken him a while longer than he’d hoped, but he’d eventually managed to find some laid in a nest by the moat.

Link sat next to the rusted cooking pot he’d dragged behind the barracks, taking a deep breath in. He started going through the steps in his head, hoping it would drown out the worry. The less he thought about all of this, the better he was going to feel.

As the fire warmed up, he kneaded the dough with his bare hands, working it together into an awkward, misshapen lump. The raw eggs squished between his fingers, and the honey stuck under his nails. The pan was warm against his skin, but still not too hot to touch, though it wouldn’t be for much longer.

“Link? Link? Where did you go?” Zelda came around the corner, brushing a stray twig from her hair. Her face was flushed, her breath short, and once she saw him she stopped to catch her breath, dropping down next to him. “What happened to you in there? You just ran off without saying anything. I mean, you don’t usually say anything, but, well, this was different,” she accused him.

Link paused, setting the clump of sticky dough onto a sheet of clean parchment, daring a quick glance at her. “I. . .got upset,” he said quietly.

He turned to the side, picking up a small wooden bowl of dried fruit. They sat in silence while he snapped the apple slices into rough small pieces, dropping them on top of the dough. Zelda sat in silence, watching him methodically break the fruit. She was hoping he might say something else, but it was no surprise when he stayed silent, his coarse breathing rising and falling with the flickering of the fire. Zelda reached across him and picked up her own handful of slices, carefully breaking them into even pieces, working with a careful rhythm to match Link.

“What are you making?” Zelda asked. She’d wanted to press the matter, make him tell her what had set him off. But it was obvious in the heaviness of his eyes and the stiffness in his shoulders. He didn’t want to talk about how he was feeling and why. So she let him off, at least, for now.

He glanced at her, watching in surprise as she broke the fruit. He waited for a moment before speaking, his voice steady. “You’re breaking them too big.” He reached over, tracing a line across a piece. “If they’re bigger than that, it won’t cook evenly.”

Zelda leaned back, surprised by his sudden chattiness—if you could really call it that. She nodded, breaking them into smaller pieces. “That makes sense. I was never much for cooking. I’d have rather been reading, so I didn’t ever learn. You still didn’t tell me what we’re making, though.”

Link flushed a bit, offering an embarrassed smile. Zelda reeled back, staring. Had she seen him smile before? It was a soft sort of thing, actually. Not shy, so much as it was unpracticed, cautious. He even had dimples.

She hadn’t known he had dimples.

“Sorry, forgot,” he mumbled, tossing aside a twisted apple stem. “It’s a quick baking fruit cake recipe,” he explained. He picked up the ball of dough, and then after a moment of hesitation, pulled it in two, offering her half. Once she took it, he started folding the fruit in, watching to make sure she knew how.

“Fruit cake?” Zelda said, biting back a smile. “But sugar, and butter, how—never mind, I don’t care. Fruit cake is my favorite,” she told him, with a grin, folding the dried fruit into the dough with renewed eagerness about her.

They set their awkward lumps into the bowl of the cooking pot, and the metal began to hiss, warming the clumpy dough. The fire flickered with a quiet, absent sort of way about it, lapping up around the edges, slowly crumbling the blackened charcoal below.

Link picked a few wildflowers from between the cracked stones, twirling them absently between his fingers, watching the petals bob. After a moment, Zelda reached across him. As she slipped her fingers around the stems, their hands brushed for just a moment before Link quickly jerked away, leaving her to hold the flowers.

Embarrassed for startling him, she tried to mirror her mother’s comforting smile that seemed to have the magic power of setting people at ease. “While we wait, let me show you something.” She bit her lip, carefully piercing the base of each stem with her thumbnail. She gently slid each stem through the slot of another, weaving the gangly little wildflowers into a stringy chain of pastel yellows and blues. “Here, look. You can chain them together like this. And with a little bit of twisting at the ends. . .Tadah,” she announced proudly.

It was actually a bit of an ugly little thing. The flower crowns her mother had made for her when she was young had been from the royal garden, back when it was still around. All the flowers were thick and lush, gorgeously trimmed and specifically chosen for their beautiful colors. But this one was faded, with frayed petals and a few roots hanging out, and a tiny ladybug wandering one of the dandelions. She started to feel a bit sick. He’d probably think it was stupid. He wouldn’t laugh, he wasn’t that kind of person, but he’d stare at her and wonder why she thought he would care.

Link picked it up gently, tracing the loop carefully, admiring the little weaves. He paused for a moment, giving her a cautious, awestruck glance, then slwoly set the ring of flowers atop his head, resting it in his golden hair with a sort of amazed reverence. “It’s. . .really pretty,” he said softly, his cheeks turning a pale shade of pink. “Thank you, Zelda.”

She offered a relieved smile, turning a bright shade of red. “Oh, uh, glad you like it.” She turned back to the pot, feeling a small swell in her chest. “So, why are we cooking anyways?” Zelda asked him, poking a dry stick into the fire, turning over the burning firewood. “Is there a special occasion?”

Link scooted closer, offering her a leftover slice of dried apple. She broke it in half, crunching on one end as he relaxed, watching the cake begin to form. “Don’t know. Guess I do it when I’m upset,” he said, drawing his knees close to his chest.

Zelda set down her apple slice, turning to look at him. She moved cautiously, slowly, like he was a frightened wild animal, and any wrong step, no matter how small, could send him running. “You don’t have to,” Zelda told him, leaning back on her hands. “But if you want to, you can tell me about it. I can try to just listen.”

He rested his chin on his knees, his eyes still absently watching the leaping movements on the fire, slowly following its movements. He wasn’t sure how to speak, how to phrase his words without crossing any lines. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to talk.

“Because. . .” Link leaned closer to the pot, closing himself off. He turned the cakes over gently, his eyes dark and tired. “Because of werewolves, I never got to meet my parents. I never had many friends. I barely even know how to talk to people. Lots of times I feel like it’s my fault, I guess. And I’m just. . .so scared, all the time,” he said, laughing, turning away to hide his face. “Sorry.”

Zelda moved closer, gently pressing up against his shoulder. She parted her lips, mouth open to speak, but she came up dry. She glanced away, her mind spinning, then looked back, talking a slow, deep breath in.

“My father was killed while his back was turned. He didn’t even get the chance to fight back. And my mother. . .she. . .what happened to her happened because she was trying to save me,” she said softly, watching the fire. “She’s like this because of me. And now I’m supposed to lead everyone. And I’m failing them. All of them. I’m always scared that any little thing I do wrong will bring a genocide on my people. It’s not normal to be scared. It’s not okay. But we are.” She lifted her head, watching him intently, wishing she could read his mind. “We’re terrified, because both of us know we aren’t strong enough.”

Link turned slowly, finally facing her. His eyes were cast down, as if he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the face. His cheeks were stained and wet, his nose running and his eyes red. His head dropped to Zelda’s shoulder, and he took a shaky deep breath in. “I’m so tired of being scared,” he whispered, his eyes slipping shut, leaning close to her, glad, at the very least, to feel any sort of gentle human touch.

Zelda gently rested her head against his, staring out absently into the smoke. “We can be scared together,” she said quietly, wrapping her arms around his narrow shoulders. “Then at least we both have something.”

Link nodded slightly, the firelight catching on his eyelashes, reflecting the orange light pouring from beneath the cooking pot, drying the tears from his face. When he finally pulled away, he moved slowly, as if it pained him to let go, to not hold anyone again. He took a shaky deep breath, then met her eyes. They shared a silent, deep gaze for a while, and both could feel the others’ unspoken thanks for the shared moment.

“Fruit cakes are done,” Link said, using a wooden paddle to scoop them out of the pot. He set them down on his small piece of parchment, then added a garnish by means of a few fruit slices and a drizzle of honey. “No icing. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Zelda said softly, pouring water over the cooking fire. “They smell delicious. Is this where you disappear to every day?” He tensed up at the question, so she quickly waved it away, forcing a laugh. “Kidding, kidding.”

Hesitating, Link blew on the cakes, and once they were cool, tried to pick one up. To both their surprise, the second small cake tried to follow.

Zelda bit her lip with a bemused smile, pulling out a small pocket knife. “They must have baked into each other,” she said, gently cutting the two cakes apart.

They each picked up their cake, cupping the warm confection between two hands. Zelda blew on hers, handling it carefully, trying not to burn her fingers as she ripped off one small piece at a time, blowing on it quickly. Link didn’t even hesitate, wolfing the hot cake down as if someone bigger and stronger might come wrestle it away from him if he didn’t eat fast.

Link glanced at her as he licked his fingers, looking a bit surprised that she wasn’t even halfway through. He paused, then offered an awkward, cautious smile, as if testing out to see whether it was still working. He spoke softly, his words cautious and stilted. “I know that everything is. . .really busy. But someday, remind me to show you my waterfall, okay?”

Zelda snorted, shoving a bite of cake into her mouth. “Your waterfall? What’s that even mean?” But he only offered a cheeky shrug in response, so she just smiled and shook her head. “Alright. You can show me some day.” She looked down at her cake, turning it over in her hands. “I can’t wait to see it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the first time Link ever says her name. I kind of wanted it to be an important moment, like a special thing where they're finally starting to open up to each other. I think it turned out really well! The next chapter is gonna have a bit more action than everything else
> 
> (and no not "action" I'm talking ACTION like sword fights and junk hahah)

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue, done! I'll be posting this and the first two chapters all at once, just to get the ball rolling. The chapters following the prologue will all be longer than this one. I'm thinking there will be thirty-eight in total, but we'll see. I'm super pumped for this story! Action, romance, intrigue, basically all the fun stuff, hahah! Hope you like it!


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